


How to dispose of a body

by wajjs



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Implied/Referenced JayRose, M/M, writing challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:35:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23730175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wajjs/pseuds/wajjs
Summary: ...without getting caught in the escape.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Slade Wilson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 50





	How to dispose of a body

**Author's Note:**

> Some time ago I wrote this quickly for a mini prompt challenge on tumblr, where you got 5 random words and you had a maximum number of 10 sentences you could write based on them. 
> 
> The words I got were: memory, pigeon, railroad, bike, lane
> 
> Rereading it, I discovered I still like it so I decided to share it here, too! (plus I think the title is cool)

  * **_How to dispose of a body_**



For how much of a meticulous man he is certain to be, the beginning of this is an incipit that escapes him, a constant focal point where light glints and blinds him more than he’s ever been. A memory so elusive it teases him during his less lucid moments, making everything all the more complicated considering those instances are few and far in-between.

It still unsettles him, rattles something inside his ribcage, that place that is always certain and secure; makes him feel outside the edge of his circular energy, made extremely poignant by the thunderous slap of pigeon wings that jump into flight in the middle of the night. 

He’s not one that usually runs but for some reason he is, now, with bullets behind him preceding the long strides of the one giving him chase. Odd how their roles are reversed, now.

He didn’t come here for a fight at first, yet he encountered five thousand too many, and what he’s carrying is much too precious for him to risk stepping into the fray once more. Something meaningful is expanding relentlessly in the span of extended running steps, like a railroad forming with each beating of the soles of their boots against the wet pavement, a guideline only for them, and it is fitting as much as it leaves him just slightly off.

The bike just ahead of him is the same as always, the very same one where, not too many capricious days ago, he had _him_ pressed against the handlebars, greedy hips rolling in abandon against the heat between his legs, meaty thighs squeezing bruises on his sides - mouths merciless in their shared kisses and bites, hands eager, beard burn scraping the younger face across the taut line of his jaw. 

He also knows it’s the same bike his daughter once took, the same boy that kissed her, that felt the sweet vibrations of the machine between his legs and perhaps he should feel guilt (or whatever comes closest) but all he feels is  _ time _ in a way the first pretty bird never made him feel.

“Slade!,” Jason shouts, angry, but he is already going, half accommodated in the leather seat and gracefully mingling in with the chaotic traffic lanes, a million and two plans forming before his eyes, trying to decide if fixing whatever this is will be worth his while, if what his body yearns will not accumulate into yet another loss.

**Author's Note:**

> [(here's the tumblr post)](https://wajjs.tumblr.com/post/611591433041870848/mini-prompt-challenge)


End file.
